


Dance With Me by the Fire

by digitalsoop



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-13
Updated: 2015-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-17 15:10:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3534050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/digitalsoop/pseuds/digitalsoop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Makoto's take on the moment of truth: the summer festival where he will definitely dance with Gou and not make a fool of himself. </p>
<p>A rewriting of the last chapter of Brisa, cantabrasil03's cowboy!AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dance With Me by the Fire

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Brisa](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2492576) by [cantabrasil03](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cantabrasil03/pseuds/cantabrasil03). 



> For full context, you should read Brisa by cantabrasil03. For a quick rundown: Gou and Rin live on a back country ranch, and the Tachibana family moves to restore a rundown ranch nearby. Gou is very happy to get to know their new neighbors. The AU is based loosely on the badlands of Brazil.

Makoto had paced around the backyard all morning, flexing his fingers and bending and straightening his arm; he was finally healing after his fall, and he had been cleared to go sling free just in time for the summer festival season.  
But he couldn’t help kicking his boots in the dirt and sighing. Unable to do the usual work that he did each year for the festival season, the morning was dragging on at a tortoise’s pace, and this year his anticipation for the party to begin was higher than it had ever been. They had invited the Matsuokas after all. But there was another reason he was unhappy: his father had made friends with a few of the men in town, and while they were happy to help with the heavy lifting that Makoto wasn’t allowed to do, they had teased him about the circumstances of his injury all day.

He was reassured that if he wasn’t recovering they wouldn’t be taking quite so many jabs at him, but it didn’t make him inclined to laugh along. Instead he crossed his arms and ignored them, busying himself by looking out towards the front yard and down the road. He wanted to be the first to catch a glimpse of red hair in the distance. 

“The Matsuoka girl was the one that came to your rescue right?” Instead of shuffling away like had done most of the morning, Makoto uncrossed his arms and turned. The men immediately nudged each other and laughed.

“Now we’ve got his attention, huh? She’s cute, right? Well, the Matsuoka family was known for their looks as much as their ranch, so it’s not a surprise.”

“Rin and Gou are very nice,” Makoto replied. “I’m glad we’re neighbors.”

The stilted reply made them laugh harder, and his hasty retreat was coupled with a stuttered, cracking claim that his mother needed his help with the cakes. That was enough to make his father join in laughter. Makoto could always watch the road from inside the house, where things were quieter and people weren’t quite so quick to torment each other.

His mother beamed when he walked into the kitchen. Some of the wives of his father’s friends tittered and glanced towards their timid daughters. “Makoto! You’re just in time to help me get the nice plates for the cakes. Your father always puts them up so high.” 

“Well, it’s not that high for us,” he reasoned. The cabinet shelf the plates were on was barely above his head, so it was really no more effort for him than putting on a hat. “Everything outside is ready.”

The announcement had the women exclaiming that they were done too early, and many of them took it upon themselves to go to the backyard to make sure everything had really been set up properly. He could hear them loudly and happily berating their husbands even after the door had closed.

His mother smiled and put her hands on her hips. “By the time the cakes are done the bonfire will be lit, I think. Maybe you should clean up a bit.” She tapped her forehead, and Makoto cringed when he reached up and felt sweat-matted bangs. “You’ve been outside in the heat all day, after all.”

A gentle and polite reminder that he smelled like dirt and sweat.

His boots thudded to the floor, and his heavy steps pounded all the way to his room. He stood in front of his dresser and worried over what would make him smell best, and if his shirt was too damp and wrinkly to be worn.

It was probably better to be safe than sorry.

He gathered new clothes in his arms, dashed into the bathroom, peeled off his button-up and undershirt, and promptly stuck his head under the bathtub faucet to douse himself in cold water. For a moment, caught up in the shock of the cold and the sound of the water, he was able to close his eyes and imagine the bonfire. Tall, roaring, and very warm, it would cast shadows across the whole backyard; shadows that would highlight perfect cheekbones and a gently sloping nose and—the cold water wouldn’t allow him to think of other body parts that gently sloped, or how they would feel when a petite body was pressed against his own in a dance.

He hoped she would say yes to a dance.

The cold water stopped, he huffed and sighed, shaking off as much water as he could before putting a towel over his head. Far from the backyard, the sounds of the band starting were muffled but made his heart leap all the same. He rushed to dry his hair, brush it nicely, pull on the new undershirt and the red plaid button-up that he rarely wore, and give his face a few gentle, encouraging slaps.

He could do this. He had needed the courage for more terrifying things. But when he was struggling to pull on his boots and desperately searching for his good hat, he couldn’t remember what those more terrifying things had been.

***

It was hard not to sprint up to the red-heads as they walked the path into the backyard, but Makoto was sure that his grin was wide and silly enough that it would be in his best interest to approach at a light jog instead. Calling their names in excitement defeated the purpose, of course. Rin’s smile was easy, and light, and his entire posture was that of a person ready to tease; he hoped that it was for Gou’s sake that he was staying quiet, because that meant that he had a chance of not making a further fool of himself.

He smiled, already feeling out of breath. His shoulders hunched in anticipation, waiting for Gou to finish fixing the skirt of her dress—a very playful, very bright dress with a very deep collar, guiding his gaze straight to the yellow belt around her waist. Finally she looked up at him, staring, eyes darting. Then she raised her eyebrows and leaned forward: “Makoto, your sling!”

Though he had been doing it all morning, flexing in front of Gou made his chest tighten—and maybe puff up a bit with pride. He reassured her that he felt much better, managing to leave off any hint that it was only because she had finally arrived at the party. Rin was skeptical about the news that he would be off a horse for some time, and Gou continued to look up at him while they chatted, fiddling with the ribbons of her braids—which just made it that much easier to see every perfect dip and slide from her chin, down her neck, and all the way to her collar bones.

But at the mention of Ran being his head babysitter she laughed, a giggle that made her shine. He offered food only partly out of courtesy. The sooner they moved into the party, the sooner he could have chance to be alone with Gou, who was taking the brunt of Rin’s teasing mood. If his teasing mood was what had urged Gou to quickly take hold of Makoto’s arm and let him lead her into the yard, then he wished Rin was like that more often.

The moment was brief. At each party men and women shifted to their separate groups to catch up on news, and Makoto and Gou were no exception. She was called over with cries of how cute her dress was, and she rushed to her friends giggling all the way. He was reluctant to follow Rin and suffer through more sharp pats on his shoulder and teasing, but it was Rin that drew all of the attention. Many of the men hadn’t seen him in a long time; they remarked on how big he had grown and how he needed a haircut, and they called on the women to agree with them. The resulting debate was very heated, and very hands on. Rin clicked his tongue and batted at hands that tugged on his short ponytail. Whether it was a compliment or complaint towards his hair he blushed.

“Oi! This isn’t much of a party!” He twisted and snuck out of the group, laughing with only half of the enthusiasm as everyone else. Makoto stepped back, looking at the edges of the party as the music changed and started drawing people to dance. There were his parents, smiling and laughing before they had even started to dance, and Ren and Ran scampering into the fray with other children who preferred to ignore dance steps and move how they pleased. 

Nibbling on corn sweets, alone, was Gou. Her eyes looked more like flames than the bonfire he had helped start, and those eyes followed his parents. She smiled, gingerly taking the last bite and brushing her fingers together. He had to take long strides to reach her before she reached for another. Her smile grew, or maybe it was just the shadows thrown from the fire playing tricks on him.

She cupped a hand next to her mouth, her light voice surprisingly loud. “Sorry! I snuck away while everyone was teasing my brother. I wanted to make sure I got as much as I wanted before everyone remembered they were here!”

“I understand, I usually sneak some before my mom brings them out,” he laughed. “I didn’t this year though.”

She grinned and picked up two, offering one to him. He took it with a smile, but turned and set it back on the table as soon as she wasn’t looking; the laughter from under the banners and the dust kicked up from boots and heels stomping in the dirt reminded him of why he had approached her. “Gou, do you—,” he cleared his throat when her smile shrunk in confusion. His neck felt like it was on fire. Of course she couldn’t hear him over the band. Smile intact, he leaned forward, held out his hand, and tried again. “Do you want to dance, Gou?”

Her hand was warm, her smile warmer. The dance was quick, a bit impersonal—not that he didn’t love every second of it. Gou laughed and made faces, faces that she had probably made at the friends and family she had done this dance with every year. He was lucky to see them, he was thrilled to see them. He was thrilled to laugh to with her, to be holding her hands and pulling her closer, turning with her as the tempo slowed.

Her braids bounced slightly, one hand on her hip—this dance was so much about the hips after all—and the other clasped in his; a gentle tug and she was close enough for them to talk, but he couldn’t think of what to say. Gou smiled, her hand resting on his upper arm and happily accepting his touch on her back, guiding through turns and sways. There were ways to go about this that were modest and respectable, ways that didn’t necessarily require his thigh to be so far between her legs, but the song was old and romantic, and the small distance between their hips was exhilarating.

They parted for a moment so he could turn, Makoto leading her hands to crisscross his arms over his head. He bent backwards to make sure he could complete the turn, and Gou’s laughter carried easily despite the loud music; she was still grinning as they crossed their arms over each other’s shoulders to bring them side by side, their hips bumping together once, twice, and again with each step forward and back; but he wanted to be close again.

He dropped his hand to the small of her back, a gentle nudge turning her towards him and pulling her close to his chest where his heart was threatening to burst. Their hips touched, his hand supported her neck, and he dipped her low; she closed her eyes, trusting him to sway them both upwards and sweeping them up into the next step. He wished he could have stopped time, closed his eyes and pressed his lips to her neck, and her collarbones, but the moment had passed. There was nothing to do but enjoy the feeling of her forehead against his chin, the faint smell of her perfume, her shampoo—something—lingering in her hair and mixing with the smell of the fire and dust and corn sweets.

Each step seemed longer; one flowing movement that he knew by heart, one that he wanted Gou to know by heart, too. He couldn’t look away, he couldn’t risk missing a single expression, a single swing of her hair or flutter of her skirt; not one tilt of her hip could go unnoticed. Her cheeks were turning red, and the song slowed just enough for him to dip her again, and this time he leaned after her, watching her tilt her head back and take a breath that caught in her chest. He took his time pulling her up, supporting her neck and bring her closer until her breath was on his lips. She stared at his mouth, her fire-filled eyes meeting his, questioning.

The band slid seamlessly into the next song before he could even think of an answer.

They both giggled and hunched their shoulders, stepping into the quicker step of a much faster song, pulling his mind away from the slope of her neck and the feeling of his thigh between her legs, his hips pressed against hers. He was grateful that the song had changed before she could notice how excited he had been during that dance. But he had been breathless before the music had changed, and they could barely finish the dance before Makoto was guiding her by a firm grip on her hand out from underneath the banners.

Firecrackers popped behind them, accented with excited yelps and clapping. They froze, shoulders hunched, then looked at each other and laughed. He leaned close to ear and wondered aloud if Ren and Ran were responsible, and if they should set off some of their own. When he pulled back slightly for her response, she nodded absently. Of course. It was even louder in the thick of things. He took a few steps backwards, smiling. Gou’s face immediately brightened, her fingers squeezing his hand as she followed after him.

It was almost as if the dance had never ended, as if he could still lead her into a slow turn, their bodies pressed tight together until she would step away with a hand on her hip and a mischievous glance, a teasing reminder that he was only allowed to have the honor of bending her to his will because she allowed him to. He wanted to go back, to kiss her under those banners, by that firelight, and beg to be allowed to do even more, to thank her a thousand times over; for rescuing him; for simply existing.

He wanted to breathe her name and see her shiver. He wanted so much. He wanted too much. Her simple offer of taking a walk made his heart jump. Yes, yes, please. He wanted to praise and compliment her until the sun rose, but all he could manage were stilted acknowledgements of her appearance and dancing; a hesitant reminder that he never had thanked her—and oh how he wanted to—and oh how he hoped she would accept it.

She shook her head. “You don’t have to thank me.”

But her eyes were trained on him, bright embers even in the moonlight, giving him the same questioning glance as before. Are you going to? Will you? Well? He hesitated, waiting for her to draw back, to put a hand between them, but when their lips finally touched she moved closer; he couldn’t help but shiver, to wrap his arm around her and hold the back of her neck, to tease her lips open and kiss her in earnest, his tongue pressing against hers.

He felt it with every fiber of his being. I love you, I love you, I love you. I never want to stop kissing you. And Gou welcomed the kisses, her hands caressing his face and his shoulders, trying to pull him closer.

“I love you, too.”


End file.
